Borrowed Time
by AllisonWonderland203
Summary: "I can't even begin to think why he is here with me, why he has left everything behind to run with me, but at this moment, I could care less. He is here, for this moment, and he is mine. All mine." ALAYM. Fiyeraba.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

I set the broom against the tree, taking off my hat and resting it atop the handle. Taking a few steps away, I sit hard on the ground.

Oz, I need a minute to breathe, to think. This has all been so much so soon.

I glance behind me. Fiyero meets my eyes and brings the rusty old lantern, coming to sit beside me on the ground. As he settles, I notice I'm trembling. Whether it's from the cold or the nearness of him, I cannot tell. My mind is still spinning with the recent events. I'm still not even sure all of this has really happened, that he's here beside me. This could all be a dream… Or a nightmare. Or it could all be some sort of grandiose hallucination concocted by the Wizard in his chamber of horrors.

I haven't decided yet.

"You're cold," he comments, drawing me out of my reverie. "Here."

He reaches for my hands, enveloping them in his larger ones, and slowly begins to rub them, the friction causing warmth. I am entranced by the movements of his hands on mine, the way his pale flesh looks against the unnatural emerald hue of my own.

Green as sin.

Emerald City green.

Gale Force green.

His captain's jacket rests behind him, discarded on the leafy ground. I cannot help staring at it. We have each worn our share of green, yet how different our roads have been.

_How different we are_, I think. _How different, and yet how similar_.

"We should make a fire."

Again, his voice startles me back into consciousness. Could he tell I had been lost somewhere in my own train of thought? I shake my head, tightly grasping his hand as he tries to pull away.

"We'd better not. They'll find us. We'd be practically begging them to find us."

"But you're freezing."

I shrug. "It's not like I haven't had cold nights before."

"Elphaba…" His voice is soft and I refuse to look back up at his face, at his eyes, and see the pity in them. I will not be pitied by anyone. I am the fearsome Wicked Witch of the West! I need no man's pity.

"Fiyero, don't," I snap.

He says nothing and I regret my hasty anger. Against my better judgment, I dare a glance in his direction. His face is sad. Damn it. I should have known he'd react this way. I sigh.

"I don't want to talk about it, about how things are and how they should have been. We both know that wishing never changed anything."

"Okay. If that's what you want." His voice is soft as his thumbs rub over the tops of my hands, driving me to distraction.

I can barely think straight in his presence as it is, so to have him touching me is sweetly torturing me even more. Yet as maddening as it is, I only want more. I can't even begin to think why he is here with me, why he has left everything behind to run with me, but at this moment, I could care less. He is here, for this moment, and he is mine.

All mine. He is not Glinda's or the Wizard's or anyone's. He is here with me because he chose me and that knowledge is heady.

"Elphaba?" His eyes catch mine. A gentle tug on my hands turns me toward him, pulls me closer.

"No more talking," I whisper, licking my suddenly dry lips, noting my breathing is a little faster than normal.

Oz, he makes me want to melt. If only all of Oz knew that – _Bah, water can't melt the Witch! Why, everyone knows only the handsome captain of the Gale Force can melt most Wicked of them all into a pile of sopping green goo!_

Moving towards him, I shuffle on my knees until they almost touch his. There is no room for shyness tonight. I am treading on borrowed time. For too long, I have been alone, but I will not be alone tonight. This is my one chance – to be with the man I love above all others.

_Surely_, I decide, _this is a dream_.

I have no intention of waking up.

"Kiss me?"

"Gladly," he replies, bowing his head towards mine.

And in that instant, I think better of my bold request. I am afraid that I won't know how to do this – because I really _don't_ know how to do this – and I hesitate. My eyes dart from his lips to his eyes to his lips, but before I know it, his mouth is pressed to mine. I falter, just for a moment, before giving in and letting instinct drive me.

Fiyero is attentive and gentle and seems not to notice my naiveté. If he is pretending not to, I don't want to know. I just want to feel. His hands frame my face, caress my cheekbones. Somewhere along the way, he has learned to be good at this. A hot flash of jealousy burns in the back of my mind as Glinda's face appears, but it quickly dissipates when I remember that he has left her behind and is here now with me.

As I drown in his warmth, his touch, hazy, half-connected thoughts flit across my mind. I wonder if he knows how far I have come to be able to let him in like this. I am no longer the reticent girl he once knew. I wonder if he misses her, or what he thinks of the woman I have become. I wonder if he knows how much I trust him, how completely I have let my barriers down in order to allow him to be here like this with me.

His lips leave mine as he trails soft kisses over my cheek, my jaw and down my neck. I squirm closer to him, my fingers curling and grasping fistfuls of his shirt as his mouth creates hot suction on my skin.

"Don't stop," I murmur, my words coming out low and slightly slurred. "I need you to make me believe you're really here, that this isn't all a dream."

"It's no dream," he says, his lips dancing on my skin.

"Good, because I never could have imagined something this g-good," I gasp as he finds a particularly sensitive patch of flesh. "Fiyero…"

"Mmm?"

My eyes flutter open as he lifts his head to look at me. I reach out and touch his face, my hand trembling just a little, just out of my control. He is beautiful and skilled and every woman's dream. He is everything I'm not and all the same, I want to tell him how I feel, how I've always felt – but the words catch in my throat.

"I-I just wanted to say that for however long we have, no matter how long or fast, I'm yours. No resistance, no boundaries. I—I want to give myself fully to you, if you're willing…"

He presses his mouth to mine in another searing kiss, one that leaves me dizzy and breathless with my hands fluttering over his body, not being able to find a place to settle – much like my erratically beating heart.

"If I'm willing?" He shakes his head, searching my eyes. "Elphaba, there is nowhere else I would rather be than right here with you. Why is it so hard for you to believe me?"

I cannot answer that. It would take too long and hurt too much to say exactly why my heart does not believe that what I feel now is real, that what we have here could be real. I have spent too many years convincing myself that I am unlovable, that I could never experience happiness such as this, or that anyone could actually choose me to actually comprehend what is happening right now, at this moment.

So I shake my head, about to protest when he continues.

"I don't pretend to be smart, Elphaba, I never have. You make me feel things I don't understand. And I don't know why any of this makes sense, but it does. I only know that whenever I'm with you, I feel right. I always have. Being around you feels like… well, it feels like home, like I've finally found what I'm looking for."

I can barely breathe.

His hand cups my cheek, holding my gaze. "And I don't know what kind of spell love is, but I want to spend forever figuring it out with you – if you're willing."

I can't help but smile at his words – my words turned back on me. Ooh, he is a skilled manipulator. For a moment, I wonder if I'm outmatched, for he has the advantage of experience. But then he pulls me close and brings my hands to rest on his chest, covering them with his own. He is no longer teasing; a seriousness lies behind his smiling eyes.

"For this moment, as long as you're mine," he says gently, eyes never leaving mine, "you are all that matters. You – Elphaba Thropp. Not the future, not those we've left behind. Nothing but you."

"Fiyero…" I try to protest, but he shakes his head.

"And no matter what future we may or may not have, I don't care."

"Neither do I," I whisper, trying for all the world to sound braver than I actually feel.

Oz, nothing scares me like the talk of feelings and the future – things I have limited contact with.

"Then come here…" He slides his hands down my body, around my waist, pulling me until I am chest to chest with him, our bodies flush. I cannot help a shudder. "Tonight – you are not the Wicked Witch of the West. You are Elphaba – you are who _you_ want to be."

"I want to be yours…" My voice trembles, from passion or lingering uncertainty, I'm not quite sure. "I want to belong to you."

Fiyero smiles. "You do. And you always have and always will."

Words fade then. There is nothing more to say.

With a sudden movement, I wrap my arms around him and meet our mouths urgently. Our teeth clunk and he gives a soft groan. Oh, Oz! I'm an idiot! For an instant, I start to pull away, yet he gathers me closer, pressing our bodies together. His tongue prods against the seam of my lips and I open my mouth to him. I kiss him in a way I didn't think I knew how – fast, fierce, fervent.

I feel as I have never felt before. Fire races through my veins, under my skin, through my body. What he does to me, what he makes me feel is beyond all explanation. I feel powerful. I feel divine. I feel… I feel…

I abruptly pull away from him, leaving him gasping and reaching for me. His arms hang at his sides, his hands open in a questioning gesture.

"What is it?" he asks.

I shake my head. "It's just… for the first time…" I lean a little closer. "I feel…"

He looks at me expectantly, as if I am about to impart some great knowledge. I grin, my lips barely an inch from his.

"_Wicked._"

**A/N: If this has infringed at all on anyone else's ALAYM, I do apologize. There's only so many ways to rewrite the same scene. As always, I hope I have brought something fresh to the table, something new or enlightening... even as I used THE biggest cliché in all of **_**Wicked. **_**Hoped you enjoyed. :)**


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